The Things I Would Let Juju, Rayah, Paige, Nika, Azzi, Kk, Ice, Dominique, Emily, Diana, Jana, Kiki,

FIRST PICK MFS LETTSSS GOOO

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this

riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”

“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.

“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”

an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.

“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”

nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.

your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.

taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.

“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”

he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.

it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.

tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.

oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”

“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.

your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.

nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.

each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”

“f- fuck, lee talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.

your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”

with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.

you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.

“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.

nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”

kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”

“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.

with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.

pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.

as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”

I hope you all get laid soon, for your own mental health

Moaned ngl, I love a good shot

beautiful

You're an idiot that can't handle the truth. You will never get a decent job because you post your ugly mug all over the internet and because you started it.

I can handle the truth, you can't. I stated facts against your incest fics. And you have yet to change your ways. You're a fucking brat. A 24yr brat. I've meet 3yrs better than you.

I have a job that pays more than well, because I actually do my job and my coworkers/bosses like me. Do you really think a few selfies would get me fired. Me and my boss have giggled about the shit that's been going on here. I can't wait to update her🤭

You can project your insecurities on me all you want. I'm wayy too pretty to be beefing with a 24yr incest shipper. I don't care if I started shit. I had an opinion, one that was based on facts and the first thing you did was call me a "bitch". Then you sent me death threats unprovoked. Then you threatend me and others with suicide. Fucking pathetic.

You can't act your fucking age can you. I suggest you keep me blocked Bre.

There’s a malicious rumor going around that I’m trying to turn chubby girls into sluts (I’m the one who started the rumor and it’s true) 🩷

I wish this necklace was the real deal.

wh

…

Phoenix, it’s me. Believe in yourself.

squirting for the first time with jjk men?? 😫

❛ SLIPPERY WHEN WET! ❜

sukuna, toji, getō, gojo, namami, choso. jjk men and their reaction to making you squirt for the first time

total wc. 3.6k

warnings. fem!reader, degradation, squirting, overstim, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, p*ssydrunk men, dumbification, pussyspanking, toy usage, edging. MDNI

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“hm? ain’t no guy ever make ya squirt before?” he grunts. and you’re just absentmindedly being stuffed, both of your wrists gripped back with toji holding onto them, his strokes were mean and demanding. your head continued to thump and bounce against the soft silk pillow that rested underneath your head. all you could make out was a sweet pathetic ‘nuh-uh’ and toji raises his thin eyebrows in amusement. “no baby…? not even once?”

“no- don’t think i can, i tried myself but…”

he snickers. “silly girl. trust me, you can squirt,” you bit your lip, eyes nearly rolling back from his jagged thrusts, its so good you nearly feel drool start to run down the corners of your mouth, how embarrassing it was—yet you remained stupid from his dick, feeling the warmth of your pussy clench tight against him. “want me to test it out?”

“yeah,” you whine, your voice was a mere soft mewl, an almost mumble practically, and toji gifts your ass with a spank, eliciting a moan from your mouth. he grows cocky the minute a huh? leaves his mouth. so you correct yourself with a “y-yes.”

“….‘yeah’ what girl,” he groans, skimming his dark green eyes down to see how your body jerks underneath him. his weight lightly hovers against you, and he’s still got a firm grip with your wrists, having you pitifully tongue-tied. “taught you how to speak to me. so let’s try that again.”

arrogant bastard, what your thoughts originally said—making you purposely repeat yourself, but his cock always always made up for it.

“please,” you choke out, moaning from the way he deepens his thrusts just a tad bit, your mouth starts to water from the way your pussy twitches in content. “make me squirt toji. please. i wanna be messy for you.”

“aw that’s my girl,” he purrs, releasing his grip from your wrists, yet it remains still against your bare back, his thrusts snap against you to where a cute gasp leaves your lips. “but oh, you’ve been messy though, but there’s nothing wrong with that, princess,” he teases, such mockery escaping from his tone. “relax for me, yeah? you’ll feel it when it comes.”

“okay,” you moaned, your left cheek pressed up against the white sheets of the mattress. it was cute, your face being up against the bed as you’re being absolutely stuffed and pounded. you felt yourself tightening from the inside—a coil desperately awaiting to be snapped, a feeling you never knew you could feel, and you probably looked so dumb. “okay okay o-okay.”

you cutely kept sputtering, repeating and bracing yourself. toji brings a rough hand towards the back of your neck as he’s ramming his fat length from behind you, such thrusts has your body spasming and crying out for more, it feels like a orgasm being snatched away from you.

“give it to me, girl.” he grunts, giving your ass another mean spank. the immense build up. your legs judder continuously to where your mind goes blank like an empty canvas, empty..

“a-ah t-toji—!” you squeaked, and he’s so ruthless whenever it came to you, each time you try to sit up to turn around he shoved your head lightly back down, it’s so cute. “fuck, fuck. f-fuck, ‘s about to-” and a gasp interrupts your words the minute you squirt all down his shaft to his base, your sweet juices sheath and sheath all the way down and it’s so warm and hot.

the minute you end up squirting, your legs felt so weak, it just quavered and shook. “oh my g-god,” you sobbed, and he slows his sloppy thrusts against your cunt down—leaning up close to you, direct and personal. “there we go mama, my messy fuckin’ squirter,” he whispers, he’s pressed against your ass and wraps a few fingers around your neck. planting a kiss underneath your chin he murmurs. “you made such a mess. how’s it feel?”

“good. but feels w-wet toji.”

“eheh, well yeah girl, that’s kinda the point.” he snickers, playfully sinking his teeth into your neck, giving it a teasing nibble.

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“hm? make you squirt huh? so greedy.. my fingering isn’t enough for you?” sukuna teases and you’re laid flat on your back with your legs lazily lifted up, more like he’s holding them up for you.

you moaned, feeling him slide a single digit in and out. he sneaks a wet kiss against your thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, tasting how sweet you were. “...kuna ‘m not greedy, just wanna see what it feels like, please..”

“you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your legs twitch, “but sure thing.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit. your head goes back and your mouth slightly opens and parts from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out. his lips latch and lock against your folds to make your eyes roll back. he was so filthy with his tongue let alone his fingers.

you sucked your teeth—feeling his two fingers push deep in and out, going past against that spot each time, instead of your eyes rolling you were practically crossed eyed.

“f-fuck, fuck, ‘s good ‘kuna...”

“i know. you keep saying that, dumb girl. quit talkin’ and start squirting.” and you lose count of how many mean slaps he gives your pussy. he’s so mean, yet found every few seconds to praise you and let you know how good you’re doing.

“h-hurry up and make me then.”

“little girl, watch it.” he grunts, gifting you a glare, his eyes pierce against yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy with a rough spat, he runs a single middle finger down your slit to snatch the tiny brat left in you. you meet eye contact and your slick was very much glistening his chin, being soaked with your sweetness.

your legs were so close, just the epitome of the word jittery with how it just shook, never once staying still. the stimulation he created with his tongue let alone his fingers, it had your mind boggled. “think ‘m getting close, f-fuck.”

“uh huh. fuckin’ bet you are.” he whistles in response—grabbing ahold of his dick and you let off a cute gasp at the way he swipes his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your wetness. “look at that, princess.

so eager to jus’ swallow me up.” and he slowly makes his way inside your cunt, immediately your walls hug him as a response and you’re just at the very limit. “come on, let go for me. you dont gotta be shy around me, neither does this wet pussy.”

the minute you squirt…it’s embarrassing, sukuna only smacks about five deep thrusts against your cunt and you’re already making a mess all over his base. “s-so good.” you’d cry out, and he’s staring at you.

a grunt departs his lips before he leans in to kiss you, pulling out only to ghost his fingers against your clit.

“you’re such a nasty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, you moan—tasting your own slick that ran down his chin, the sharp edges of his teeth playfully nibbling down on your lip. his body heat against yours made you feel tingly and even more in such heat. “tell me you’re my nasty girl, baby.”

“i-i’m a nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you moaned.

he gives you a dead stare—and you whine once he slips two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.

“i’m your nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you rephrased, and a cocky grin forms on his lips.

“what a good obident girl. think i like you.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“you sure sweetheart?” he asks in a soft mumble, he has a wand in hand. the ringing of the toy rings against your ears as your legs were sprawled apart for him. “you want me to make you…squirt?”

“yes p-please, kento.” you nod, the cuteness bestowed upon your lips was beyond words to describe. the way your lip quivered, it was barely up a few notches yet you throbbed and throbbed. despite it only being a good ten minutes. you’re just a whimpering mess.

eager to touch yourself, you reach down to play with your pussy before he grabs it, kissing the back of your hand.

he chuckles. “oh baby…baby, gotta keep those hands to yourself if you want me to make you messy. okay? no touching.”

“s-sorry kento.”

“aw, don’t be sorry. squirt, princess.” he teases, a hum underneath his tone he was so gentle with you, with his touch yet your legs felt like they were pretty much about to give out.

the stimulation made your teeth nearly chatter, toes clench and your back nearly arching. he finds you to be so pretty like this. flat on your chest, drool running down your mouth against the pillow with your mind empty.

you hold in a moan, teeth lightly piercing down on your lip to help silence yourself from the immense pleasure, the overstim from just releasing had your chin just hovering over your arm.

“o-one more level kento.”

“more? it’s gonna be on four, dunno if my cute whiney princess can handle that.”

“p-please, need it. i wanna-”

you moan at the swift sound of nanami swiping a thumb across the vibrating toy feeling the impulses throb against your sweet cunt, indeed it now being a level higher from three and it’s so good you can just taste the urge to let yourself go.

the sudden feeling of his sneaking fingers to brush and slither against your puffy folds was just enough to send you to burst—your mouth slightly went agape, and you’re just stupid. “n-nanami.”

“so dumbstruck you said nanami instead of kento, such a sweet thing,” and you end up squirting the minute he rubs the toy in a circular motion—maneuvering it against you along with fingers to ghost and run alongside your achy pussy. “easy, ‘s okay. lie down on your chest. jus’ let go for me baby, yeah.”

“such a gorgeous girl,” he whispers in awe, leaning down to kiss your clit which turns to countless smooches, mwah after mwah and your legs were practically mush by now. “let me clean you all up with my tongue, ‘m your husband, least i could do. so relax for me, my love.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“oh? i’ve made you squirt before, no?” he cackles, leaning back against the headrest of the couch.

“no,” you whined, still getting over your post-orgasm, his cock stood firm inside of you, such inches of his kept you warm with your hands pressed against his chest. geto stares at you with intrigued darkened eyes. having you sat on his lap, legs still barely recovered a few minutes ago. “don’t think you ever did...”

geto grips your waist, sliding a tongue across his lips before muttering in a sly coy tone. “mhm hmm,” and he’s so sassy, even having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. black specks of hair trickle down and paint the lower half of his body. geto’s happy trail was always appetizing to look at.

“this your little way of asking me to make you soak yourself on me, angel? how cute.” he grins.

“…sugu—” and you gasp at the way he grunts the minute the pads of his thumbs lightly press and pierce into your skin. he starts making you bounce against him and your mouth opens, such lewd whines exit your lips before you throw your arms around his neck.

“wanna squirt, do it yourself. fuck me baby. show me how bad you want it,” and he groans how he’s so stuffed. so full of cum still, hefty base pounding and thwacking back against your pussy. “you’re a big girl. do it y-yourself, mhm…shit.”

he was so teasingly sly, making you rut yourself against him, in the end you always had to do pretty much everything yourself whenever it came to geto.

“…okay,” you choked out, and he playfully leans back — tiny beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead as well as the very middle part of his chiseled v-line.”

it felt so good, you’re dumbly grating your teeth together, still so sensitive, the only cacophony that left your lips was cute whimpers of, “s-sugu,” “…want you s’bad,” and even, “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles at how dumb you grew out to be simply from being stuffed full of thick inches of his dick. “gotta be mean to deal with a pussy this wet.”

his girth had you running for your money, toes clinching as you started to rollick and jerk your hips against him, reaching a hand down to play with yourself before you whine. “f-feel it, suguru.”

“yeah? what are you waitin’ for then?” he purrs.

he chuckled at the sudden moments where you’d grow quiet — he knows how good he’s getting underneath your skin with his vexatious teasing.

his cock expanded in and out the more you moved your hips against him, your soft breaths getting caught in your throat before it comes, you squirt at the same time geto came and he’s caught off guard by the sticky messy feeling, he’s the one who slips off a whine. “s-shit..”

it came out a lot…

let alone with him soaking your cunt full of his own, you really felt stuffed and full to the very depths of it, it felt like a sharp coil within you snapped. geto starts panting, and he takes a moment to blink before grunting, staring away with a flustered face. “don’t look at me. finish fucking me, hmph.”

SATORU ☆ GOJO

“pretty please, ‘toru,” you’d whine out, and he was just straight up cocky and mean, teasing you with having you on all fours, impatient and desperately desperate. “i wanna…wanna squirt.”

“i know you do,” he laughs, playfulness ran all over his tone before he gives your ass a squeeze. that earned a needy moan out of you and you but down on your lip while staring at the fat sheets of the mattress underneath you. “are you asking me to make you squirt or are ya tellin’ me, pretty girl?”

he was so infuriating. even while being plugged in with so much of his thick inches, even just barely with the way he kept swiping his fat tip against your slit, awaiting you.

“….‘m asking, s-satoru.”

he whirrs a playful tone before flipping you over on your back to face him, and then he smiles. “okay. if that’s what you want,” and his voice was so low—a tad bit raspy with pompous smugness all over his sentences. “since i know how impatient ‘n horny you are all the damn time, i’ll make ya squirt in about one minute.”

a minute?

was that even possible—you always heard about how it would take at least longer than that but then you remembered who you were dealing with. gojo satoru and his long pretty fingers that never failed to stretch your pussy out. he was forever proud of that fact, he’d make you soaking wet from not only his dick, his mouth, but especially his fingers.

“it’s gonna get messy, ‘m warning you,” he teases, pulling you up a bit to place a towel down underneath your back. he leans in to pepper kisses underneath your chin before seconds later, he moves his length aside with a grip — before slowly stuffing a single long finger inside, which after a few milliseconds, turns into another. “now, i’m gonna need you to be a good wet girl and jus’ relax for me.”

his words were soothing. you could hardly comprehend anything so his sentences went straight towards your clit, throbbing and throbbing you wanted more. he finds it cute how you grip onto his wrist, babbling about how you don’t want him to stop. “o-okay, satoru. okay.”

you shudder at the feeling of him grazing a thumb down your slit and he moves his head down between your legs to blow softly against your pussy and you moan, feeling him create a good amount of pressure to where you bare down against his fingers easily as if it came natural.

“sweet girl,” he groans, giving your pussy a kittenish suck. your eyes went back in pleasure and you whined at the feeling of his two fingers just smacking in and out of you now. the noises, they were so loud you could hardly even believe it was coming out of you. “hear how wet this sloppy pussy is? yeah girl, that’s you.”

his words that went through your ear and out the other and it got you so wet. his degradation had you pulsing, you felt the inside of your tummy tighten, muscles clenching with you lying down on your back, bracing yourself. gojo was patient with you, occasionally bringing soft kisses towards your clit. you whined before he started to grow more feral, sucking and latching his tongue against your folds while still having two fingers stuffed inside your pussy.

your brain doesn’t even process you’re squirting before gojo lets off a, “oopsie,” the minute you squirt out on his fingers, the front tips of his fingers massage and toy and prod against that spot you always grew to know—and you moan at the way he easily stole a orgasm from you like that, within a single span of a minute.

“aw. you look like you just saw your life flash before your eyes, baby,” then he sits up to face you. both arms pressed around you before muttering in a teasing tone, “want a taste? open your mouth.”

and he gives you the most sloppiest kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat before grunting, you moan in his mouth. your legs wrapped around his slim waist before he squeezes a hand down on your pussy only to spank it roughly, breaking away for a bit before whispering, “good girl. now gimme one more. wanna see if i can do it within thirty seconds.”

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“b-baby…you wanna do that?” choso mumbles, staring in awe as the both of you watched some random eight minute compilation of women squirting. he was staring intently, and then he only grew more flustered at picturing you like that. legs all spread, eyes rolled back and maybe your tongue stupidly lolled out. “um.. squirt?”

“yes…” you nodded, sitting on his lap. he throbbed behind you, still a bit tingly from his recent orgasm of fucking you.

you pressed against his back and his chin cutely rests against your shoulder. choso’s always been a bit inexperienced whenever it came to well, women. he’s had sex sure….but he doesn’t think he’s ever made a girl do this, this thing called squirting. not until you brought it up.

the more he watched it, the more he moaned to himself at imagining you being all messy like that.

“okay baby, i can do it,” he murmurs in a soft voice.

he brings a hand between your legs and pries it open just a bit, “lie back,” he moans, seeing your legs sprawl open slowly for him made him lick his lips, he was so hungry for you. you had the phone in your hand so he could watch, imitate the exact ways to make a woman squirt with ease and it was so cute how attentive he was. “s-stimulate the um…g-spot a little like this,” he mumbles to himself, and you moan once he slowly inserts two slender long fingers inside your pussy, you were so wet he lets off a cute, “o-oh….”

his eyes multitasked, turning its focus towards you and the screen that played the lewd video at the same time. “like that c-choso, please.”

“i’m doing a good job?” he says, and it’s almost into a form of a whine. all because he’s so desperate to hear your praise and approval, he feels his stomach flip in a good way at feeling you nod against his chest, affirming him to not stop. “okay, okay,” he mutters. “add a little um…p-pressure, consistent pressure until you feel a spongey like texture deep towards the clit.”

you moaned, his words matched his fingers, you tried to squeeze your thighs together but remembered you couldn’t because they were open.

your head rested back against his chest and with a right hand squeezing down onto his thigh, you felt your leg start to bounce. “m-more.”

“don’t wanna rush this baby,” he kisses the back of your forehead. a small pout going across your lips before he continues, pausing to hear the voice on the video that’s instructing speak.

he leans against your ear, strands of his hair poking against you before he murmurs. “bare against my fingers princess. squeeze down a little ‘n relax. can you do that?”

you choke out a moan once you obey his words, doing exactly what he says before you feel a sudden rush reaching out, you never felt this feeling before such a high you craved and chased you felt dizzy, a good kind of a dizzy.

“c-choso, ‘s coming, ‘s coming,” you moaned, your legs not able to hold themselves still. he has a perfect bowling ball grip with his fingers, stroking gently against you to where your mouth salivates with your own saliva.

“…fuck,” you sobbed, the warmth of him massaging his long fingers inside of you made you taste every number of tastebuds that resided on your tongue.

the moment you gush out and squirt, coating his fingers clean of your sheeny pretty slick, you flop back against his chest and you can ever hear a tiny gasp leave his lips. “w-wow,” he whispers in shock — with how much you squirted, he was so fascinated, growing more and more curious and it was adorable. “can you…can we do that again? please?”

started crying ngl

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which it was time for paige to share her life to the world

The Dallas heat clung to everything—your skin, your clothes, your breath. It had been one of those dry, hazy spring days where the city buzzed with anticipation, and today that energy had a name: Paige Bueckers.

Drafted to the Wings only a week ago, your wife had already been pulled in a hundred different directions—interviews, photoshoots, press conferences, sponsor obligations. And tonight, a team dinner to cap it all off.

You knew she was exhausted. You’d seen it in the slump of her shoulders when she got dressed earlier, the tired smile she gave you as she kissed your cheek goodbye. Still, she went. Paige always did the hard thing with grace.

You stayed home with your daughter.

The dinner had started off light—wings, tacos, laughter echoing around the table at some local spot her new teammates loved. Everyone was still riding high from the buzz around the team, and Paige, though quiet at first, settled in after a couple rounds of teasing and margaritas (which she didn’t even sip, but they still joked like she was three drinks in).

“So Paige,” Arike Ogunbowale said from across the table, grinning, “you and Azzi… what’s the deal?”

It was casual, playful—just a nudge in the middle of the chaos—but the whole table paused. Even the waitress setting down guacamole looked like she froze mid-motion.

Paige blinked once, then laughed. It was genuine, warm, and more amused than anything. “Me and Azzi? Nah. We’re just close. Like… family.”

Arike nodded, her mouth full of tortilla chip. “Okay, okay. Just checking. Social media’s obsessed.”

One of the rookies chimed in, “Yeah, I mean, you’re always together.”

Paige shrugged, still smiling. “That’s what happens when you’ve known someone since you were fifteen. She’s my best friend, that’s all.”

There was a flicker of something protective in her voice. Not sharp, but final.

The questions faded, and the conversation shifted toward next week’s training schedule. Paige let herself relax again, but a weight settled in her chest. They didn’t mean any harm. But part of her still hated that people couldn’t imagine her love life without assuming it had to be another basketball player.

No one had guessed the truth.

It was late when she got home. The house was quiet, soft golden light from the kitchen spilling into the hallway. Her sneakers came off with a sigh, and she padded softly down the hall.

First stop: the nursery.

The door was slightly cracked. Inside, a small figure lay sprawled on her belly, wild curly hair fanned out against the sheets. Her favorite stuffed puppy was clutched in one hand, the other hand thrown dramatically over her head like a tiny diva.

Paige stepped inside slowly, carefully. Her heart melted instantly.

She bent down, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “I love you, bug,” she whispered, so low it was barely sound. “So much.”

She lingered there for a second—watching, listening to the even rhythm of her baby girl’s breathing—then gently closed the door behind her.

You were propped up in bed when Paige came in, your face glowing in the light from the TV. A rerun of Chopped was on low volume, the judges arguing about undercooked scallops. You looked over as she entered, your expression instantly softening.

“There’s my superstar,” you teased.

Paige’s face cracked into a tired grin. She kicked off her hoodie and jeans and climbed into bed beside you, settling against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “I’m so tired I think my bones are asleep.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. “You handled that media circuit like a champ. I saw the clips.”

She groaned, turning her face into your neck. “So many questions. And they all ask the same thing. ‘What are you most excited about? How does it feel to be in Dallas? Do you think you and Azzi are soulmates?’”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”

Paige leaned back and looked at you, laughing. “I’m not kidding. One of my teammates asked if Azzi and I are a thing. The whole table went quiet like it was the tea of the night.”

You couldn’t help your smirk. “And what did you say?”

“That she’s like my sister,” Paige said, deadpan. “But I guess people don’t expect me to be married to someone who isn’t also a Nike-sponsored hooper.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, they can keep wondering.”

Paige reached for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours. She toyed with your wedding ring. “I don’t really care what they think. I just hate not being able to say it out loud.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But here, with us… you don’t have to hide.”

A beat passed.

Then Paige looked toward the ceiling, her eyes fluttering shut. “Sometimes I just wanna scream it. ‘I’m married to the love of my life and we have the most amazing little girl and I’m not dating my best friend!’”

You laughed quietly, running your fingers through her hair. “You’re tired.”

She nodded into your chest. “I am. But happy tired.”

For a few minutes, you lay in silence, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. Her breathing slowed. Her hand still clutched yours.

Then she whispered, “She was asleep when I checked in on her.”

“Was she curled up like a little croissant again?”

“No,” Paige said, grinning against your skin. “Starfish mode tonight. She’s dramatic, just like you.”

You chuckled, closing your eyes as Paige snuggled in closer, her voice barely a breath now. “Thanks for holding it down at home.”

“Always,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Now sleep. You’ve got a city to conquer tomorrow.”

And with your arms wrapped around her, the soft hum of the TV, and your daughter safe down the hall, Paige finally let go—of the noise, the questions, the pressure—and drifted off in the quiet comfort of home.

Saturdays had a different feel now.

In Connecticut, it used to mean quiet coffee runs and long naps between workouts. But now, in Dallas, Saturdays were noisy. Messy. Beautiful. They started with sticky pancake fingers, early cartoons, and your daughter toddling around the kitchen with one sock on, yelling that she was a “big girl” and didn’t need a bib.

You and Paige had decided early on that today was just for the three of you. No media. No workouts. No press. Just a family day under the sun.

And so you found yourselves at a park, right in the middle of downtown Dallas. It was a bright, cloudless day. Families filled the green spaces, music echoed from a nearby jazz trio, and the food trucks lined up like a mini festival.

Your daughter, Emma—two and a half years old and already a firecracker—clung to Paige’s hand like she was leading a grand expedition across the grass.

“Where are we going, baby?” Paige asked, her sunglasses perched on her head, her other hand holding your iced lemonade.

“To da dogs!” Emma shouted, pointing at the off-leash area where a dozen bouncing golden retrievers played in a chaotic fur ball.

Paige gasped dramatically. “THE DOGS? Why didn’t you say so sooner?!”

She scooped Em into her arms, spinning her in a wide circle that sent squeals of laughter into the breeze.

You followed behind, grinning like a lovestruck idiot, because no matter how many times you saw Paige with your daughter, it never got old.

After the dogs (which Em referred to as “her friends”), you found a shaded bench by the splash pad. Shoes were off. Chubby toddler legs were kicking water in all directions. Paige sat cross-legged on the concrete beside her, letting the spray hit her jeans, not caring one bit.

“Okay, okay,” Paige said, pointing at a tiny spout, “if I put my hand here, will it spray me in the face?”

Your daughter nodded, wild-eyed. “Yes! Do it! Do it!”

Paige pretended to consider. “I dunno… seems risky.”

“Do it, Mama! Be brave!”

You watched from the bench, barely holding back a laugh as Paige gave in with theatrical flair. She slapped her palm on the stream and—true to your daughter’s prediction—it shot directly into her face.

Both of them screamed.

Your daughter collapsed into giggles, falling back into your lap as Paige wiped her face and feigned betrayal.

“I trusted you!” she cried.

“I sorry,” your daughter said through giggles, not sorry at all.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a tiny little prankster, that’s what you are.”

She pounced, grabbing your daughter from your arms and tickling her belly until the poor girl was a breathless, wriggling mess.

Later, after lunch from a taco truck and ice cream melting faster than you could eat it, the three of you laid on a picnic blanket near the edge of the park. Paige was on her back, your daughter curled up on her chest, slowly blinking up at the blue sky. She was coming down from her sugar high, hair damp from the water, eyelids fluttering.

You leaned over, resting your head on Paige’s shoulder.

“Tired?” you asked.

“Like, I’d-rather-get-run-over-by-a-scooter-than-move tired,” Paige whispered back. “But this is the happiest I’ve been in… I don’t even know how long.”

You looked down at your daughter’s little hand resting on Paige’s shirt, her tiny thumb unconsciously stroking Paige’s collarbone. Paige didn’t even seem to notice—she was so used to the closeness now.

“She loves you so much,” you said, your voice quiet.

Paige turned her head to look at you. “I’d give her the moon if she asked.”

You smiled, and she kissed you softly, the kind of kiss that didn’t need fireworks or urgency—just comfort and presence. Just love.

The sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the buildings. You started packing up while Paige stayed sprawled out on the blanket, your daughter now fully asleep, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed to Paige’s chest.

As you folded up the corner of the blanket, Paige looked up at you, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you think they’ll ever get used to this?” she asked.

“Who?”

“The world. The media. Everyone who thinks I should be with Azzi or still single. Everyone who can’t imagine I’d choose this—quiet Saturdays and sippy cups over spotlight interviews.”

You met her gaze and smiled softly. “They don’t have to understand it. You just have to live it.”

Paige looked down at the little bundle on her chest, then back at you. “I’m living it. And it’s perfect.”

By the time you made it back to the car, your daughter was groggy and muttering something about needing her stuffed puppy. Paige kissed her forehead, promised they’d find it when they got home, then strapped her gently into the car seat.

As she closed the door, you caught her hand.

“Hey,” you murmured, tugging her in.

She stepped into you easily, wrapping her arms around your waist.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her temple.

“For what?” she asked.

“For being this. For loving us like this.”

Paige tilted her head, brushing her lips across your jaw. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

And with your daughter softly snoring in the backseat, the air still warm with sun and laughter, you believed her with your whole heart.

Sundays in Dallas were slower, warmer in every way. The city was quieter. Even the breeze felt lazy, like it didn’t have anywhere to be. Today, you and Paige had taken your daughter to the Dallas Farmers Market — your favorite spot for fresh fruit, wandering stalls, and letting your toddler explore the world in her little denim overalls and butterfly sneakers.

She held Paige’s hand as she toddled toward a booth selling homemade soaps, squealing about the ones shaped like ducks. Paige, with her signature cap pulled low and sunglasses on, nodded along like this was a very important duck decision.

You were laughing, sipping your coffee, when it happened.

“Wait… hold up.”

You turned toward the voice just as Paige froze.

Two figures stood by a booth across the path. Tall, athletic, and unmistakable even out of uniform. Dijonai Carrington and NaLyssa Smith.

“PAIGE?” Dijonai called, her eyebrows practically hitting her hairline. “Is that you?”

Paige straightened slowly, adjusting her hat like it might help her hide in plain sight. “Heyyyy... guys.”

NaLyssa squinted. “Are you holding hands with a baby?”

You tried not to laugh, especially as Paige’s eyes flicked to you with a silent help me.

“She’s a toddler, actually,” you said, stepping up and offering a warm smile. “And yes. That’s our daughter.”

Dijonai’s jaw dropped so fast you swore you heard it.

“OUR?!”

Your daughter looked up at the sound and instantly broke into a grin. “Mama!” she shouted, lifting both arms toward Paige. Paige scooped her up with practiced ease.

NaLyssa blinked. “Mama?!”

“Okay, okay,” Paige laughed, already blushing. “Let me explain.”

After the initial shock wore off—and after your daughter insisted on showing them her duck soap and a sticker she got from a face painting booth—you all decided to hang out the rest of the day.

The five of you ended up grabbing Thai food from a food stand and sprawling out at a nearby park on the grass. The energy was light, Emma chasing butterflies and occasionally tripping into Paige’s lap, then laughing like it was the best thing ever.

NaLyssa took to her like an auntie in five seconds flat, giving her piggyback rides while Dijonai tried (and failed) to braid her curly hair.

By the time the sun started dipping low, you looked at Paige and smiled. “We should invite them over.”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. They’re not gonna let this go without the full story anyway.”

That evening, with your daughter finally asleep upstairs—curled in her bed with her stuffed puppy tucked under one arm—you all lounged in your cozy living room. The lights were dimmed, music soft in the background, a couple candles flickering on the coffee table.

You poured glasses of wine, passing them around before curling up next to Paige on the couch. She stretched her arm around you, fingers gently tracing your shoulder as you sipped.

“Alright,” Dijonai said, settling into the beanbag like she owned it. “Spill. We need the entire story. Like… Paige Bueckers has a family. Who would’ve guessed?”

Paige smiled, leaning into you a little. “It’s not as dramatic as you think.”

You nudged her playfully. “Kinda is.”

NaLyssa raised her glass. “Let’s hear it.”

You glanced at Paige, who gave you the go-ahead. So you started.

“Well… we met at UConn. I wasn’t a player—I was studying sports medicine and doing photography for the women’s basketball program.”

“She had a camera in her hand every time I looked up from the court,” Paige added with a soft laugh.

“I got pregnant right around the start of my second year, basketball season was just beginning,” you said, tone quieting a little. “It was… unplanned. The baby daddy didn’t stick around.”

Dijonai’s smile dropped. “Damn. That sucks.”

You nodded. “Yeah. It was rough. But Paige… she just showed up. Not all at once. Just… little things. Bringing me food. Walking me back to my dorm when my ankles were too swollen. Sitting with me during appointments when I couldn’t reach my mom.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Paige said. “But I knew I wanted to help her. I wanted to be around.”

“And then one day, she showed up with a crib she built herself,” you continued, laughing softly. “Badly built, by the way.”

“Hey!” Paige protested. “That thing held perfectly until month six.”

NaLyssa giggled. “So when did it… become more than friendship?”

You looked at Paige, your eyes softening.

“It was slow,” you said. “But honest. I think I loved her before I realized I did. Before I even knew I was allowed to.”

“I fell first,” Paige admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I waited until she was ready. I wasn’t going to push it.”

You looked down at your wine, smiling. “And by the time our daughter was born, it was just… obvious. She was already her mama. Her name deserved to be on the birth certificate. We got married shortly after Emma was born. No doubts whatsoever.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Dijonai let out a long whistle. “So I guess the ‘Pazzi’ rumors are just rumors, huh?”

Paige burst out laughing. “Yeah. Definitely. Azzi’s actually Emma’s godmother.”

NaLyssa choked on her wine. “What?! Y’all are out here playing chess while the whole internet’s writing fanfics!”

“Yeah,” Paige smirked. “And I read some of them. Wild stuff.”

You gasped. “Paige!”

“What?” she grinned. “Some of ‘em are kinda flattering.”

Dijonai shook her head, laughing. “I love this. I can’t wait to see the look on people’s faces when they find out.”

You looked at Paige, her cheeks flushed with wine and happiness, and smiled. “We’re not rushing that. But it’s nice to finally share it with someone.”

She leaned over and kissed you softly, letting her hand drift over your thigh. “Yeah. Feels good.”

NaLyssa raised her glass again. “To chosen family. And duck soap. And a little girl with the coolest moms in Texas.”

You all clinked glasses.

And in that living room—warm with love, filled with quiet laughter and soft confessions—you realized just how full your life had become.

Not just because of what you had with Paige.

But because of everything you’d built together.

The morning started with pancakes and cartoons, as it usually did. Paige had an early shoot around, but it was her first open-practice session with the team since the season officially kicked off — and she insisted on making it a family affair.

“You sure they won’t mind?” you asked as you buttoned your daughter’s little Wings jersey, the one with Bueckers on the back and “#5” in glitter iron-on patches.

Paige gave you a look like you’d just asked if basketballs were round. “They’ll love it. Trust me — they’re already obsessed with her and they haven’t even met her yet.”

You raised a brow. “They’re gonna be obsessed with me too, right?”

Paige leaned in, kissed you softly, and murmured against your lips, “I already am.”

The College Park Center buzzed with energy when you arrived. The team was mid-practice, music bumping through the speakers, sneakers squeaking across the court. Trainers and staff bustled around, but when Paige jogged in with you and your daughter in tow, heads turned.

A few players paused their drills, doing double takes.

“Is that…?”

“Oh my god, she’s here!”

NaLyssa was the first to run over, already beaming. “Hey! My favorite tiny human!” she called, bending down with arms open.

Your daughter squealed and took off across the hardwood — all bouncing curls and flashing sneakers — throwing herself into NaLyssa’s arms.

“You see that?” Paige said proudly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Star player in the making.”

“You mean star recruiter,” you teased. “She’s already got the team wrapped around her finger.”

Practice paused for a bit — not because it was scheduled to, but because your daughter had singlehandedly hijacked the gym.

Maddy Siegrist taught her how to spin a ball on her finger (badly), and Teaira McCowan gave her piggyback rides down the sideline. Arike pretended to “lose” to her in a 1-on-1 dribble showdown, flopping dramatically every time your daughter drove the ball (slowly pushed it across the court while making car sounds).

Paige, watching from the bench with you tucked under her arm, just smiled like her whole world was right there on that hardwood.

When Coach Chris Koclanes walked over, hands on his hips, you tensed — but the coach just looked at Paige’s daughter, then at you, and broke into a warm grin.

“So,” he said, “this is the little MVP we’ve been hearing about?”

“She’s the real star of the family,” you replied.

Coach nodded sagely. “Well, we’ve got open tryouts in 2042.”

Later, after a water break and some light drills, the team settled into a shooting competition, and Paige brought your daughter onto the court with her.

“Alright, baby girl,” Paige said, handing her a mini basketball, “show ‘em how we do it at home.”

Your daughter squinted at the toddler-sized hoop they’d rolled out, took three steps back, and chucked the ball with everything she had.

It bounced off the rim, hit the floor, and rolled to NaLyssa’s feet.

And everyone still cheered like she just hit a buzzer-beater in the Finals.

“She’s got that dog in her!” NaLyssa yelled.

“Sign her now!” Dijonai called from the baseline.

Emma spun around, arms high in the air, and shouted, “I WIN!”

The team exploded in laughter and applause, and Paige scooped her up and spun her around.

“You always win,” she whispered, kissing her cheek. “Always.”

Practice wrapped up with team stretches, and your daughter sat in Paige’s lap, mimicking every move with a dramatic flair that had half the players in tears from laughing.

You took a few pictures — one of Paige mid-stretch with her daughter copying her pose, both of them giggling, sweat-slick and sunlit under the gym lights. Another of the whole team posing around your daughter like she was their mascot.

By the time you were heading out, your daughter’s head rested sleepily on Paige’s shoulder, a little snack in one hand and her other thumb tucked in her mouth.

“She did great,” you whispered.

“So did I,” Paige murmured back with a grin. “I was so nervous.”

You looked up at her. “About what?”

“Bringing my world together,” she said. “You, her… them. I just didn’t want it to feel weird. Or too much.”

You kissed her gently on the temple. “You didn’t bring your world together, Paige. You built one. And we’re all lucky to be part of it.”

Paige glanced down at your daughter, kissed the side of her head, then looked at you like she couldn’t believe she’d gotten this lucky.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered. “I’ve got my whole team right here.”

The next morning, you were still in pajamas, your daughter sitting in her high chair absolutely covered in oatmeal, when Paige’s phone started blowing up.

She frowned at it, brushing oatmeal off her hoodie as she picked it up. “Uh… babe?”

You looked up from your coffee. “Hmm?”

“I think… I think we just went viral.”

You raised a brow. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

Dallas Wings – Instagram (@/dallaswings) [“Golden” – Harry Styles] “The Bueckers Era has officially begun 💙💚”

The video opened with Paige walking into the practice facility holding your daughter’s hand — her tiny legs moving double-time to keep up, her jersey bouncing as she walked.

Cut to:

Paige tying her daughter’s shoes on the bench

A shot of you sitting court side with your camera in hand, smiling at them

Your daughter making a shot in the toddler hoop and doing a victory dance as the team erupts

Paige picking her up and spinning her in the air, both of them laughing

Finally, a close-up of your daughter asleep on Paige’s chest during cool-down, Paige’s hand protectively over her back

And then…

Overlay text at the end: “Family.”

The comments? Unhinged.

@/wnbastan69: wait... PAIGE IS A MOM???

@/wingsnation: WHO IS THAT WOMAN ON THE BENCH. SHE'S GORGEOUS. IS THAT HER WIFE???

@/bucketsqueen: this is not a drill. paige bueckers is a MILF. i repeat—

@/azzistan: I KNEW she wasn’t with Azzi. THE BABY IS CALLING HER MAMA.

@/uconnfan1 ok. hear me out. that woman has a tattoo of Paige’s number on her arm. go back to the February UConn Gala photos. it's her. they've been together.

The TikTok version? Hit 1.2 million views in three hours.

And your DMs? Albeit being private. Piling up with everything from “CONGRATS OMG” to “how did you pull her???” to “tell us your love story pls pls pls.”

You just turned your phone over and looked at Paige, who was feeding your daughter a blueberry while trying not to panic.

“Well,” you said, sipping your coffee. “Hard launch.”

That night, the Wings media team reached out about doing a feature for their upcoming mini docuseries, “Inside the Paint.” Paige hesitated, but you looked at her and said:

“If we’re gonna tell it… let’s tell it right.”

You, Paige, and your daughter sat side-by-side on the couch in your home, camera crew set up across from you.

“She’s my whole heart,” Paige said, glancing at Emma who was now climbing into her lap with a granola bar. “She’s not technically mine. But she is.”

You nodded. “We met at UConn. I was pregnant — alone. Paige was just… Paige. Gentle. Always there.”

The camera caught Paige’s hand finding yours.

“She helped raise her. Changed diapers. Did midnight feeds. Built cribs badly,” you teased.

“She was the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t alone in it,” you continued. “And somewhere along the way, we just… fell in love.”

“My name’s on the birth certificate,” Paige added softly. “And my last name’s on both of theirs now.”

“Mama was all she knew Paige to be.”

The crew filmed the bookshelf with framed family photos. Paige carrying your daughter on her shoulders at the beach. You three asleep on the couch in a tangle of limbs. A picture of Azzi Fudd holding your daughter at her baptism with tears in her eyes.

“She’s the godmother,” Paige confirmed, grinning. “Azzi. The real MVP.”

The episode dropped on YouTube and Instagram the following weekend. And in under 24 hours, it was the top trending topic on WNBA Twitter and TikTok.

The reactions? A mix of sobbing emojis, fan art of your little family, and people just melting over how soft Paige was the whole time.

@/bballdreams: I thought I couldn’t love Paige Bueckers more. And then she became a wife and a mom. I’m DONE.

@/fanbrushfire: [art of Paige in uniform holding your daughter’s hand, with you in the background cheering them on] “Mama Bueckers”

@/sidelineheart: Paige Bueckers being a quiet, private wife and mother and then casually dropping the most beautiful love story I’ve ever heard?? How is this real??

That night, curled up with Paige on the couch, your daughter asleep upstairs, you scrolled through the chaos while Paige played with your fingers.

“You okay with it?” she asked softly.

You nodded. “I’m glad it’s out there. You deserved to be known like this.”

She kissed your temple. “We deserved to be known.”

The Wings had just pulled off a thrilling win against the Mercury. Paige had dropped 19 with 8 assists, but the real surprise came postgame.

As the buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted, the arena lights dimmed for the usual fan-appreciation wrap-up — but then the Jumbotron lit up with something unexpected.

“Special Presentation” — the screen read, flashing between highlights of the game and a video montage.

Your daughter appeared on-screen, wearing an oversized Wings hoodie, shyly grinning.

“Hi Mama,” her tiny voice said, echoing across the arena. “I proud of you. You my favorite player ever and ever. Can I give hug now?”

The arena melted.

Paige turned, stunned, and saw you at the tunnel — holding your daughter, her eyes bright and excited.

The crowd parted like the sea as the two of you walked onto the court. Your daughter wriggled out of your arms and ran straight to Paige, who dropped to her knees to catch her.

The ovation was deafening.

Tears welled in Paige’s eyes as she kissed her daughter’s cheek, holding her tightly, forehead resting against her tiny one.

The announcer laughed through the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen… the real MVP of the night.”

@/espnW: Paige Bueckers just got surprised on court by her wife and daughter after the Wings win. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. 🥹💙

@/wnbatalk: “Can I give hug now?” I’m SOBBING. Who raised that little angel?!

@/courtsidechronicles: Paige crying while hugging her daughter, then looking at her wife like she hung the moon? Love is so real.

@/fanartfridays: [Art of the three of you walking off the court hand-in-hand, with the Wings logo glowing behind you.] “The Heart of Dallas.”

You tucked your daughter into bed, her plush Wings blanket pulled up to her chin. Paige leaned down and whispered, “You were so brave today, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama,” she mumbled, already drifting.

You walked back downstairs together, hand in hand.

On the couch, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind, chin on your shoulder.

“I think they really know us now,” she murmured.

You tilted your head toward her. “They do.”

“And they love her,” she added, a proud smile blooming across her face.

“She’s impossible not to love,” you whispered. “Just like her mom.”

Paige kissed your cheek and pulled you closer, the glow of the moment still radiating through every room of your home.

“Thank you,” she said. “For letting me have this life.”

You turned in her arms, looked into her eyes, and smiled.

“We built this life together. And the best part? We’re just getting started.”

The WNBA season had hit its brief midseason break, and for the first time in months, the house was quiet. You were curled up on the couch flipping through a book while Paige lay on the floor with Em lying across her chest, both completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Paige’s breathing.

Then Paige’s phone buzzed from the coffee table.

She carefully reached for it, glancing at the screen without disturbing the sleepy toddler snuggled into her.

Azzi: I swear to God if I don’t see my goddaughter in person soon I will riot

Paige smiled and nudged you with her foot. “Guess who’s demanding visitation rights.”

You looked up, already grinning. “Azzi?”

She showed you the screen and you snorted. “She’s obsessed. But, fair. You know we’ve been meaning to visit.”

Paige’s voice dropped to a softer tone as she looked down at the little girl sleeping peacefully on her chest. “I think it’s time we go back. Just for a few days.”

“Back to where it all started?” you asked.

Paige met your eyes, voice thick with nostalgia. “Back home.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Trust me , plug!eren

warnings ✩ — mention of weed, praise, high sex, slight manipulation, mention of drugs, tummy bulge, eren giving reader drugs

It was a simple question.

“Do you trust me?”

But with the way Eren was bruising your cervix, it was the most difficult question ever heard to man. Eren followed your eyes as you squirmed underneath him. His eyes stared into yours so deeply. It was as if he was trying to get inside of you (mentally atleast) , answering for you.

Your mouth opened in an attempt to answer. His thrusts knocking your eyes to the back of your head. You let out a gasp as your hands scratched up and down Eren’s back. “I-i..i love y-mmph” This caused Eren to let out a chuckle, a smile spreading onto his face. “I love you so much more, but that’s not the answer I was looking for”

One of Eren’s hands moved down to your lower stomach, pressing onto the bulge. You whined at the feeling.

Eren’s pace slowed and he gave you the deepest longest strokes you ever got. Your breath was knocked out of you, mouth starting to get dry from the previous joint Eren smoked with you.

“Now imma ask you again, kay princess?”Eren cooed to you, grabbing your jaw and forcing eye contact.

“Do you trust me?Use your words.”

You eagerly nodded your head, “mhmm! y-yes ren I do!” she’s just so cute, Eren thought as he slowly moved his hips against yours. A warm feeling flooded Eren’s stomach as you completely submitted yourself to him. You trusted him with your life, you really did.

“Gonna take this for me, hmm?” Eren reached over and grabbed a small plastic bag with a couple white pills in it. “It’s gonna make you feel so good, I promise. You trust me right?” Eren slowly picked up his pace.

“Uh huh. Yes ren” You whined, back arching.

“Good. That’s so good princess. You’re doing soooo good for me. I’m gonna make you cum so much I swear.”